


An Angel of Dean Winchester

by wookieefucker



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 08:37:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3803929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wookieefucker/pseuds/wookieefucker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 10x18. "Who are you now? You're obviously not an Angel of the Lord."</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Angel of Dean Winchester

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mercuryhatter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercuryhatter/gifts).



> This originated in my mind with Dean's confessional scene, and solidified with that library scene with Metatron and Cas. 
> 
> Thank you Lee for putting up with my sad supernatural nonsense.
> 
> I hope everyone likes this!

_“Who are you now?” “You’re obviously not an Angel of the Lord.”_

 

A millennium of servitude to a God that no longer wanted them was still a bitter subject for most of Heaven’s Host. Castiel wasn’t an exception to this, although in recent years it had become much easier to deal with. As Cas leaned back and sipped the beer that Dean kept plying him with, he couldn’t seem to get Metatron’s earlier comment out of his mind.

No. Castiel wasn’t an Angel of the Lord anymore. So then what was he? Cas glanced over at Charlie leaning against Sam and laughing, and Dean, looking at both of them and smiling. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and his cheeks were flushed with the heady combination of familial joy and alcohol. Even with the Mark on his arm Dean was determined to be happy and enjoy this time, and Castiel thought, not for the first time, that Dean was probably the best man that he had ever known.

 

_“Who are you now?”_

 

Sam got up to go to the kitchen for more beer and Dean and Charlie started talking about something called LARP-ing. Cas was still focused internally, mulling over Metatron’s words. He knew that they had been words spoken in hatred, and designed to make him angry and defensive, but for all of that, they weren’t incorrect. Who was he?

He was startled from his reverie when Sam came back into the room and the gathering was moved from the table to an area that was more comfortable for relaxing. Charlie settled into a plush armchair, sitting sideways with her legs flung over one of the arms. Sam took the other one, which left the short couch that Dean was sitting on, leaning back with his legs sprawled wide and his left arm hanging against the back of the couch.

When Cas hesitated, Dean cracked an eye open to look at him before sighing and patting the seat next to him.

“Come on, man. Sit. Stop standing around all awkward like you don’t know how to at least act human. I know you got your mojo back and all, but come on. You can’t have forgotten already.”

Cas smiled at Dean, a small smile, before sitting down in the exact middle of the space left to him. Any farther from Dean and he would question Castiel about the distance, and any closer and he assumed that Dean would make some sort of comment about boundaries.

Dean returned his arm to the back of the couch, fingertips just trailing against Castiel’s neck, and he thought that it was fortuitous that he had his grace back, tattered and raw as it was, because it dulled what would have surely been an electrifying sensation, and also allowed him to hide his reaction. That hiding wouldn’t have been so easy as a human, or even with borrowed grace.

Dean kept supplying Cas with beer, even though he kept trying to tell Dean that it was a waste of his alcohol, but he just waved Cas off. Finally, Dean went to the kitchen another time for more drinks, and Sam got up, laughing, to get Charlie to a bed. She had fallen asleep in her ridiculous position in the armchair. Castiel offered to help, but Sam just gave him this knowing smile as Dean ambled back into the room, and he hoisted Charlie into his arms and disappeared down the hallway.

Dean smiled softly at Sam’s retreating form, and shook his head before chuckling.

“Guess we found out what Charlie’s limits are, huh?” He sat down on the couch again, even though with just the two of them left he could have easily moved to either of the two chairs. Dean’s warmth was almost burning into Castiel’s side, and he idly thought about how that shouldn’t have been possible.

Cas shuddered a bit as Dean scooted closer to him, before raising his arm once again to it’s place on the back of the couch. His fingers toyed with the nape of Cas’ neck, and traced patters idly into his hairline. He tilted his head back and took a long pull of his drink, and Cas found his eyes drawn to the working of Dean’s throat as he drank. It wasn’t the alcohol making him react like this. It was Dean himself. His presence was the sweetest nectar, the strongest ambrosia. Dean had brought Castiel to life, those years ago when they had first met, and he was still doing it now.

 

_“You’re obviously not an Angel of the Lord.”_

 

Dean turned his head and looked at Cas, and he still had a smile playing on his lips. His eyes sparkled, and Cas tried hard not to get lost in them. He had done it before, and now didn’t seem the best time. He needed to concentrate. He needed to not allow himself to fall for something that he couldn’t have. Not again. He’d Fallen once for this man, and he wasn’t sure if he could survive doing it again.

Castiel let his thoughts run on, and finally Dean leaned in. “Cas, man,” he all but whispered into his ear, “You’ve got to chill out. Relax.”

As Cas turned his head slightly to his right, Dean leaned in further and brought his hand in to cradle Cas’ face. As he finally pulled him in for a kiss Cas was startled. He didn’t think that this would be something that he would ever be allowed to have.

 

_“Who are you now?” “You’re obviously not an Angel of the Lord.”_

_“I am an Angel of Dean Winchester.”_


End file.
